


pepto bismol pink

by remy (iamremy)



Series: askbox prompts (multifandom) [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester is a Little Shit, Ficlet, Grumpy Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Team Free Will (Supernatural), Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 05:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/pseuds/remy
Summary: proudofsammy asked:155. “I’m laughing because you’re angry. I swear I didn’t do it!”
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester
Series: askbox prompts (multifandom) [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1490804
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	pepto bismol pink

**Author's Note:**

> and this is the tale of why dean isn't allowed to do laundry anymore
> 
> which is probably what he was going for tbh

Dean is looking particularly chipper for a man who hasn’t had his coffee yet. Sam would give it more thought, but he hasn’t had his coffee yet either, and so he resolves to worry about it later. Right now, he needs caffeine.

“Sleep well?” Dean asks him brightly.

“Mm,” mumbles Sam. A few minutes later he settles across the table, his favorite mug cradled in his hands.

He’s only just raised it to take the first sip when a wordless shout rings through the hallway. Immediately he’s on his feet, hand reaching for the nearest knife – but to his surprise, Dean remains seated, sipping contentedly at his own coffee.

“Uh, Dean?”

“Yeah?” Dean doesn’t even look up from his phone.

“That was Cas,” Sam says.

“Yep,” says Dean.

“Are you not going to get up?”

“Nope,” Dean answers, still in that suspiciously serene tone.

“He could be in trouble–”

“He’s not,” Dean interrupts, and finally looks up at Sam, grinning. “Trust me.”

Sam narrows his eyes at his brother. “How are you so sure–”

He’s interrupted by Cas striding into the kitchen, looking murderous. Sam pauses with the knife in his hand, watching as Cas comes to a stop in front of them and crosses his arms across his chest.

“Explain,” he barks.

Sam puts the knife back down. “Uh,” he says, not sure what to say.

Castiel looks the same as he always does – black suit, tan trenchcoat, holy tax accountant – but Sam’s eyes are drawn immediately to his shirt. Which is bright pink. And not accidentally-thrown-in-with-the-reds pink, either. No, this is someone-put-food-coloring-in-the-laundry pink.

It’s really quite bright.

“Lookin’ good,” Dean says, grinning. “I’m really diggin’ the new look, Cas.”

“Well, I do not ‘dig’ it,” Cas informs him squarely. “At all.”

Sam can’t help it; he begins laughing. There’s something hilarious about the frankly horrible way the shirt clashes with the trenchcoat and suit, with Cas’s whole look – he looks more like a badly-dressed one-percenter than an angel of the Lord.

Castiel raises both eyebrows at him, looking utterly unamused. “Is this your idea of a funny prank, Sam?” he asks.

“What – no!” Sam says, leaning against the table. “No, really, it’s just–” He’s been trying very hard to keep his eyes on Cas’s face, but the shirt kind of screams for attention, and Sam begins laughing again.

Cas’s eyes narrow as he glares at Sam. “I do not understand what the joke is,” he says flatly.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sam gasps out. His eyes are watering; he’s not sure if it’s from mirth or from how eyeball-burning bright the shirt is.

Cas’s eyes narrow further. “You did this, didn’t you?”

“No!” Sam says at once. “Swear I didn’t!”

“Well, why are you laughing, then?” Cas demands.

“I’m laughing because you’re angry,” Sam tells him, holding out his hands. “I swear I didn’t do it!” He gives Castiel the most earnest look he can muster, while firmly telling himself _do not laugh, do not laugh_…

“Dean,” Cas says at once, turning to him.

“What?” Dean asks innocently.

“You did this,” Cas growls.

“Yep,” Dean replies, completely shamelessly. He drinks the rest of his coffee in one go, puts his mug down, and then stands. “Well, it’s been a fun morning. I’ll be seeing you.” And before either of them can stop him, he’s practically running out of the kitchen, as if he knows Cas will be chasing after him any moment now.

“Sam,” Cas says, very seriously, watching Dean leave.

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind very much if I murdered your brother in his sleep?”

Sam laughs again. “Yeah, actually, I would,” he tells Cas.

“Pity,” says Cas flatly. “I hope he is aware he is only alive because of you.”

“Oh, he knows,” Sam answers with a grin. “But you know, murder isn’t the only solution here.”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Cas asks, still sounding miffed.

Sam’s grin widens. “Well, I could take it off you,” he tells Cas.

Cas’s arms loosen, falling to his sides as his expression softens. “That,” he says after a few moments, “would be most agreeable.”

Blowjobs, it transpires, are better than caffeine when it comes to waking Sam up.

**Author's Note:**

> [this](https://66.media.tumblr.com/358cbf5229d5093dd68535180b903c1c/7ff449cb090d43db-30/s500x750/a1611d7fa6d2a4eee41501b6dd3ce324107252ca.png) is the shirt i had in mind for this fic lol poor cas


End file.
